


Ghost

by dva_infinity



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Other, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 02:58:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4003264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dva_infinity/pseuds/dva_infinity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shockwave had thought Blurr's death would get the agent out of his way. He hadn't expected this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghost

Longarm Prime stared straight ahead, optics fixed on the reports rolling in. 

Megatron’s plan had failed. 

The young Prime, Optimus, had brought him back to Cybertron in cuffs, and it had taken all Shockwave's training, all his patience, to not leap into action right there. To grab the hammer the Magnus held so loosely and break his lord free. 

But even Shockwave had to admit it had been nothing short of a miracle that he himself hadn’t been uncovered. A miracle he was not going to squander. Megatron would understand. If he remained Longarm Prime, he could work from within to free his comrades. 

His true optic gleamed in the low light. Shockwave watched the room through it as Longarm stared down at his data pad through false, sightless eyes. The room was dark and warm, packed with Autobots watching Ultra Magnus lay out the details of their triumph. 

That was when he felt it: a brush of cold air, delicate as a lover’s touch against his shoulder. His fingers went still. 

Carefully, disguising it as a need to move, Longarm shifted in his chair. Just enough to allow his real optic a view to his side, the only way he could ever see the apparition. That was what it had to be, after all. 

Blurr was dead. He’d watched the crumpled blue metal fade to grey in his own claws. Disposed of the empty husk himself. 

Yet there the agent stood. Slightly fuzzy, outline fritzing with static. His armor was as pristine as the first day they’d met, a smile on his face that the agent had only used for Longarm. But his eyes were blank, black and dead. Shockwave knew they were fixed on him nonetheless. His true optic met them for a klik before he turned away, returning his sight to his false optics and ignoring the cold static waiting behind Cliffjumper, unaware next to him. 

The ghost stood there the entire meeting, silent. It only moved when the meeting finally adjourned, unbothered by Cliffjumper walking straight through it. Longarm did his best to ignore him. 

… It. _It_ was nothing but a shadow. An imprint of the agent. 

Such things weren’t unheard of. Even the Decepticons had their tales of “data ghosts,” shadowy remnants of a spark too linked to this world. What was curious was that those stories almost always involved archivists, recorders. 

_It wouldn’t be impossible_ , he mused as he walked, _for an agent to leave such a thing behind_. But Blurr wasn’t the first agent to die in the field. He wasn’t even the first killed by Shockwave’s claws. If that was all it took, there should have been a parade of mechs behind him, Highbrow leading the way. All evidence, all of Shockwave’s experience pointed against this. 

Yet there it was. Alone. Dutifully shadowing him, the burn of its dead optics locked onto his helm. Moving the same way the agent always had, efficient and graceful, qualities that Shockwave did his best to ignore as Longarm’s dull fingers keyed in the pass to his office. 

If he had turned to watch, he would have seen the ghost follow him in, slipping through the door as if it remained open. He would have seen the brightness, the delight on its face. 

Just as the agent had once looked each time he came back from a mission. 

Shockwave sank into his chair, allowing himself to shift back to his true form and stare down at the imprint standing at attention before him. Its head was angled back as if it could actually see him. Could actually tell the difference between Longarm’s form and Shockwave’s, not as if it was simply reliving a past event. 

Curious, he extended a claw, optic narrowing at the strut-deep cold that engulfed the digit as he pushed it effortlessly into that immaterial figure. 

It didn’t move. 

It just stood there, smiling up at him with unmistakeable adoration on its face, oblivious to the claw shoved through where its spark should have been. 

An electric pulse would disturb it. Banish it for some short time, confirming in Shockwave’s processor that it was really there, if only as energy. But tonight... tonight he withdrew his claw without it. His antlers canted forward, focusing in on the small void in his senses as a sigh slipped from his vocalizer. 

There was no point in speaking to it; it didn’t have the agent’s voice. It had been too fast, too wandering for most mechs to follow. Shockwave hadn’t minded. 

Rubbing his near-frozen claw, his gaze dropped away. 

Some small part of the ancient mech, tucked away deep in his processor, admitted that he missed the agent. 

“Longarm-Prime-Sir?” 

He stilled, all sensors fixing on the ghost. 

It was _expectant_. 

It came closer, the slant of its hips familiar as it slid onto his desk. One transparent hand reached out, trembled just as the agent’s had the first time he had dared press this boundary between them. But instead of coming to his helm, to stroke it as Blurr had stroked Longarm’s cheek, it found an antler. Ghostly fingers closed around it, creating a bewildering cold-static squeal of feedback that drew a moan from Shockwave’s throat. 

The figure leaned closer, smile so bright, so alive, so _wrong_ under those blank optics. 

“I-would-have-followed-you-Sir.” 

Shockwave’s optic flared, bright red. 

Claws crackling with pink charge slashed through the ghost, shattering its mass-less figure. With nothing solid to stop them, they crashed into his desk, buckling it easily. Shockwave stood there, venting hard, staring down at his claws embedded in the weak metal. 

Trying not to think of what it had said. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally gonna be thrown into my drabble dump but then I got attached. I know there was a drawing on tumblr that inspired it but it seems I never reblogged it so now it's buried in my likes. I will link it here when I find it.
> 
> ANYWHO. 
> 
> Shout out to [Cytokiine](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cytokiine) who helped me edit this.
> 
> To everyone else, I hope you enjoyed this one shot! <3


End file.
